


Little Boy Blue and the Man on the Moon

by EllieBear



Series: Our Family Doesn't Do Normal [8]
Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: Baseball, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Keith and Logan bonding, Lost scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 12:43:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19209679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieBear/pseuds/EllieBear
Summary: Veronica has clearly outlined the rules of engagement for Logan and Keith to get together at a ball game.  Too bad neither of them like following rules.Post "The Thousand Dollar Tan Line" canon compliant, pre-"Mr. Kiss and Tell."





	Little Boy Blue and the Man on the Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SilverLining2k6](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverLining2k6/gifts).



> Big shout out to Silvery (SilverLining2k6) for posting the text line "Text me back so I know you understand the rules" on Twitter -- which gave me an idea. I responded to her with a cheeky reply that I could start a fic with that one great line as a starting point. The idea was further fed by the Veronica Mars Twitter account saying they would like to read that fic. Well, when the fandom mother ship says jump, you just answer with how high. Hope you all enjoy this little one shot with the long origin story.

 

**_Text me back so I know you understand the rules._ **

 

Logan chuckled, catching his reflection in the screen of his phone as his Cheshire grin spread across his face.

 

**I understand.  I’ll drop you a line when we leave the strip-club.**

 

There was a long pause in the conversation, and he could just imagine Veronica cursing his name as she read his message.  His phone chimed as her response lit up his screen.

 

**_Not funny._ **

 

“Head’s up!”

 

Keith stood next to him, in his hands balanced a cardboard tray of food on top of another tray of beers.  Slipping his phone into the breast pocket of his Polo shirt, Logan quickly took the top layer from him and stood, shuffling back to make room for Keith to get to his seat.

 

“You didn’t have to get all of this, Mr. Mars,” Logan said as Keith slipped past him and maneuvered into his stadium seat, stifling a groan as he lowered himself.  “That’s a lot of walking you had to do.”

 

“Of course I did!  I told you when you gave me the tickets – food and beer is on me today.  Trust me, it’s the least I can do to thank you for Padres tickets behind the dugout. And besides, the stairs count towards my P/T.”

 

Nodding, Logan slid back into his chair, glancing down at the mountain of food – two thick, paper-wrapped burgers with the Hodad’s big red star logo on the top and two bags of fries.

 

“Okay, but I promised Veronica I would return you back home in the pristine condition in which you left.”  Reaching over, Logan took one of the beers from Keith’s lap and raised it in cheers to him.

    

It had been a hard road to recovery for Keith after the car accident that claimed Deputy Sacks’ life – and almost took his – with much of his rehabilitation done while Logan was deployed overseas for six months. During that time, Veronica had been vague about his recuperation, their discussions focusing more on reconnecting with Logan during their brief “dates” online, Skyping and emailing.  When he returned from his assignment, Logan got to witness the many arguments she had with her father about the use of his cane (or lack thereof) and his cancelling of physical therapy appointments (on a regular basis) to take a client or work on a case.  Just like his daughter, Keith seemed to decide in his head that everything would be fine and set about acting as if it was so – the truth of the situation being irrelevant.

 

Chuckling, Keith reached over to Logan, taking a bag of fries and placing it in the empty spot where Logan’s beer once sat in the tray.

 

“Oh, you did, did you?  What else did you promise my daughter?”

 

Gazing out into the field at Petco Park, Logan squinted against the bright sun.  “A lot.  She sent me a list of rules.”

 

“Rules?!” Keith shook his head, laughing as he pulled the lid off one beer.  “Veronica gave you rules for taking me out to a Padres’ game.  What – are you supposed to watch the old man every minute?  Follow me to the bathroom?  Make sure I don’t talk to strangers?”

 

“No…it’s not that...simple.” 

 

Rubbing the back of his neck, Logan wrinkled his nose, squinting under his aviator sunglasses.  He wondered if he would always feel like he was being interrogated by the Sheriff – slightly on edge and ill at ease – whenever Keith asked him a question. But he knew that if there was anyone else in the world who knew Veronica as well as Logan, it was Keith.  When they were younger, Veronica and Keith’s relationship fascinated him – never having experienced the unconditional love that was supposed to come from a parent – and now that he was an adult part of him longed to get a better look at the dynamics of that relationship.  His therapist would probably label him, saying he was looking for a surrogate father-figure.  The truth of the matter was he understood that Keith would always be number-one in Veronica’s heart – he just wanted to make sure he was at least a close second and maybe, just maybe, come to some easy peace with the man who once thought he was a murderer.

 

“This is Veronica, Logan – I know…it’s _never_ simple.”

 

The comment elicited an involuntary snort of laughter from Logan and he glanced over at Keith, watching the smirk cross his face as he took a long sip of his beer. Taking a deep breath, Logan decided to go out on a limb and share with Keith her latest escapade.

 

“So, she sent me a list – when we were driving here – of all the _rules_ I needed to follow – things I’m not supposed to do or say in the three hours or so we’re together.”

 

Arching his eyebrow at Logan, Keith leaned closer to him.  “And those rules would be…”

 

Logan’s head lolled back slightly, glancing up into the bright blue sky as he rolled his eyes.  Pain.  He was in actual physical pain.  Maybe this was all just a mistake.  Why he thought trying to bond with his girlfriend’s father – who had clearly hated him for almost a decade – by going to a baseball game was a good idea, he would never know.  Veronica had pestered him for the past 24 hours about it and it completely deflated any enthusiasm Logan had at seeing the excited look on Keith’s face when he first offered to do this. But really, this wasn’t about Veronica – it was about Logan and his relationship with the man he had now begun to consider his kind-of-father-in-law.  And if he knew anything about Keith, he knew that Keith liked the truth. 

 

Refocusing, Logan let out an exasperated sigh.

 

“I’m not allowed to talk about the fact that I have practically moved into her apartment since I got back four months ago.  I’m not allowed to talk about how we’ve been talking about a house.  I’m not allowed to talk about the fact that she’s been bugging me to adopt a dog.  I’m not allowed to talk about Piz or New York or her becoming, or not becoming, a lawyer.  I’m not allowed to talk about Dick, or surfing, or anything that may or may not have happened to me over the past ten years.  And I am really not supposed to tell you that I am still crazy in love with your daughter and won’t be giving that feeling up anytime soon.”

 

The silence between them was filled with the sounds of the ballpark – the announcer saying something garbled over the loud speaker, the talking of fans, the laughter of children – and for a second, Logan held his breath, wondering if Keith would take his honesty as a good sign, or completely tell him off.

 

Pursing his lips, Keith’s head bounced slowly, nodding as he digested Logan’s words.  “Logan, in my day, we had a phrase for what you are.”

 

“Uh, what’s that, sir?”

 

“You, Logan, are what we used to call _whooped._ ”  A sly grin crossed Keith’s face and he winked at him, causing Logan to jerk his head back in shock.

 

“Whooped?”

 

“Oh boy, you really would do anything for her, wouldn’t you?" Laughing, Keith’s hand came down to grasp Logan’s shoulder.  "Those rules are ridiculous!  What does she think she’s doing?  We’re two grown men, here to enjoy a great baseball game and get to know each other.  How are we supposed to do that if we can’t talk about anything?”

 

All the blood started flowing back through Logan’s veins and he smiled.  “That was kind of the plan, Mr. Mars.”

 

“And please stop calling me Mr. Mars, Logan; you’re not a kid anymore.  Hell, you proved you could out and out _carry me_ when you pulled me from that car!  Call me Keith from now on, all right?”

 

“All right, Keith.  I’ll do that.”

 

Relaxing back into his seat, Logan took the lid off his beer and took a sip, feeling like the weight of the entire world had just lifted right off his shoulders.

 

“And for the record – just to get this out of the way – I guessed you had moved in since my daughter never looks me in the eye in the mornings anymore, a house is a solid investment, Piz will find a nice girl and land on his feet, Veronica’s career is now her business, surfing I will never understand, I’ve been quietly keeping tabs on you for the past decade, and you don’t have to tell me you love my daughter because I see it on your face every time you are with her.  Now, hand me one of those burgers, and don’t tell Veronica that it’s a triple patty with extra cheese – that’s _my_ one rule.”

 

Logan could feel his mouth drop open in surprise and closed it quickly, hoping Keith didn’t catch his shock.  As he handed him the wrapped burger, his phone dinged in his pocket and he reached for it, frowning at the screen.

**Everything okay?**

 

“Tell her everything’s fine – then turn that thing off or she’ll be bugging us the whole game.”  Keith grumbled as he unwrapped his food.

 

Nodding, Logan focused on the screen.

 

**No worries.  Everything’s great.**

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this work is a line from the song "Cat's in the Cradle" by Harry Chapin.


End file.
